Space Pirates
by A.j
Summary: Domino and Cable get lost in space.
1. Prologue: In which there is monkey sex

Note: This is NOT meant to be taken seriously. There IS NO PLOT. This is a random exercise in insanity that is ALL Timey's fault. It's an all-dialogue piece that keeps attacking and isn't done. No, it's not. There is no ending. There probably will never BE an ending. It's funny, and stupid, and please forgive me.  
  
A.j. 11.21.02  
  
  
***  
  
Prologue: In which there is monkey-sex.  
  
***  
  
"Ooo.. mm. Move your hand..."  
  
"Down?"  
  
"Higher."  
  
"There?"  
  
"God-!"  
  
"Ahh... shift a bit. That way.. hn.."  
  
*beep*  
  
"Mmmmm..."  
  
"Oath..."  
  
"Hnn.. shit!"  
  
"Eh?"  
  
*BEEP*  
  
"Lower! Lower!"  
  
"Heeeere?"  
  
"Ass... hnnn.."  
  
*BEEP!*  
  
"Um... what was that?"  
  
"Ow!"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Scoot me over!"  
  
"Okay..."  
  
*WHOOOOSH!*  
  
"Err... lout, that was my- ohhh..."  
  
"Better?"  
  
"Mmmmhmmm *gasp*"  
  
*groan* 


	2. Chapter One: In which there is singing a...

Chapter One: In which there is singing and an emotional discussion.  
  
***  
  
"Oh, I'm a space captain, and I don't care! I don't care! I con't care-"  
  
"Could you stop that? I don't need another reason for my ears to bleed."  
  
"Fuck you. It's your fault we're out here."  
  
"How do you figure that?"  
  
"Gee, let's think. "We could be pirates! I have family who'll rescue us!"   
It's your fault."  
  
"You're the one who didn't wanna step up and babysit."  
  
"Nate, it was Franklin Richards. His last babysitter got blown up by Red   
Skull!"  
  
"That was never proven, and even if it's true, you could take him."  
  
"Given, but she was a S.H.E.I.L.D. agent. She had *some* training."  
  
"She was also hot for Sue's younger brother, but that's not important. You   
were the one who told me to come up with ideas and *you're* the one who   
agreed to a stint with the Starjammers."  
  
"Your other options were "Get sent to AdMax" and "threaten to take over the   
world"."  
  
"You HAD to ask after three bottles of strawberry vodka, didn't you?"  
  
"Timing, asshole. TIMING. And how can you drink that shit? It's paint   
thinner."  
  
"Kind of the point. Anyway, *you're* the one who thought fooling around in   
the escape pod would be fun and exciting."  
  
"I didn't hear any complaints when your hands were down my shirt."  
  
"And it wasn't my butt that landed on the switch."  
  
"A fact of which I'm intimately aware. That switch now knows me better in   
some places than you do."  
  
"Are you okay? You didn't say anything..."  
  
"I'll live. Besides, there's nothing we can really do until we get back to   
the ship. Any ideas on how that's gonna happen?"  
  
"Well, the trans initializer's busted and we're too far out for me to get   
Chris telepathically. We just have to wait until someone notices we're gone."  
  
"Shit. That could take days."  
  
"Good thing the air and water recyclers are working. And the MRE's are better   
than nothing."  
  
"Says the man who can happily eat slime. But true. Were were we off to   
again?"  
  
"Cintaran IV. Shi'Ar shippment of guns and prisoners bound for one of the   
work colonies."  
  
"He's hitting a frigate!?"  
  
"No, small transport. Cintaran's low security and pretty small."  
  
"Mmm. At lwast he's backing off the private contracts. I still can't believe   
that last one."  
  
"Heh. Yeah, I think I saw Chris's eye twitch when we unloaded the cargo."  
  
"Who knew tapioca pudding mix was such a delicacy?"  
  
"It wasn't *exactly* tapioca..."  
  
"Ha!"  
  
"It was more rice pudding."  
  
"It's scary how much that guy paid us for it."  
  
"You're complaining?"  
  
"No... it's just weird."  
  
"Religions make holy objects out of the strangest things..."  
  
"You did *not* just leave that open for me..."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"*giggle* Moron. You and pudding have so much in common these days. Religious   
status... higher brain functions..."  
  
"Wench."  
  
"You want it. And I reserve my right to make comments as they spring to   
mind."  
  
"..."  
  
"Eh. So, how'd the last communication to the mansion go?"  
  
"Jean and Scott are good. Storm had her baby."  
  
"Oh. Forge's right?"  
  
"Yup. Seven pound baby boy. Black hair, black eyes, and quiet as a mouse on   
by all acounts. Oh... Sam was there."  
  
"And you didn't come find me? Asshole."  
  
"I was surprised too. He was supposed to be in San Francisco, but he came out   
to New York to drop Terry off. She was going to visit her old man."  
  
"Oh? Terry was going to visit Sean?"  
  
"Yeah. Sam mentioned that she's been worried about him."  
  
"Irish still in Ireland?"  
  
"That's rather a given, isn't it?"  
  
"Bite me. He's still really down about Moira?"  
  
"I'd imagine so. Did you know he didn't even hear about it until after the   
funeral? Jean told me that he called the mansion asking to talk to her later   
that week. Hey, you okay?"  
  
"...yeah. Fine, why?"  
  
"You are not."  
  
"Am too."  
  
"Now you sound five."  
  
"Shit head."  
  
"Okay, fine. You sound like a five-year-old with turrette's. Spill."  
  
"Damn. I don't know. I guess it just sort of hit me how that could have   
happened with you."  
  
"That no one would have called you?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Sam would have."  
  
"Maybe. But I think Sean probably thought that about Charles. We weren't   
exactly close for a long time there, Nate."  
  
"I know. That's one of my bigger regrets."  
  
"What is, is, right?"  
  
"Flonq that. I should have gone after you."  
  
"Idiot. You did."  
  
"Sooner."  
  
"You had stuff to do. Besides, it worked out, right?"  
  
"If you call being on the lamb from babysitting duties of a god and being   
stuck in the middle of no where in a lifepod roughly the size of our bedroom   
working out alright, then yes. We're doing quite well."  
  
"Umm, hmmm. You know what else was in our old bedroom?"  
  
"The bed?"  
  
"Yesss..."  
  
"You're trying to avoid the subject."  
  
"Am not."  
  
"... That really worries you? That if I died no one would call you?"  
  
"Dammit. Nate, how would you feel? If you went along thinking that me or the   
kids were fine, and then, out of the blue, you find out we'd been dead for   
over a month or a week, or whatever? Wouldn't you be pissed that no one even   
bothered to remember you long enough to let you know?"  
  
"I'd know."  
  
"Because I'd- what?"  
  
"I'd know. If you died, I'd know."  
  
"Maybe-"  
  
"No, I'd know it because even if you don't want it, there's a little piece of   
you that I always carry around with me. It's here, in my head, and here. I   
will *always* know because I'll never let either of those pieces get lost."  
  
"You are so getting some."  
  
"You just love me for my adjustable wonky." 


	3. Chapter Two: In which there is boredom a...

Chapter two: In which there is boredom and the tables are turned.  
  
***  
  
"You done yet?"  
  
"No."  
  
".... How about now?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Now?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Now?"  
  
"Is there a reason you're acting four?"  
  
"Yes. Now?"  
  
"NO. And why?"  
  
"Because the only game on the stupid nav computer is one Ch'od installed on   
the nave computer is 'Lemmings' and there are only so many furballs you can   
lead to their death before you get Ideas. I want the data pad."  
  
"You're want to *read*?"  
  
"I'm not illiterate!"  
  
"There's no Tom Clancy on here. Or Nora Roberts."  
  
*THUNK*  
  
"Ow..."  
  
"Asshole. This from the boy who had to be bodily pried away from Malthus."  
  
"He has a POINT!"  
  
"He's preserved and put on display at Oxford! No one who's set up as a museum   
piece deserves that kind of attention."  
  
"Isn't that logic backwards?"  
  
"You're just sore because they shot down your idea for house of wax works."  
  
"That was *not* my idea."  
  
"No, it was Bobby's. You just liked it."  
  
"Not after I saw his mock-up for the Inferno Demon display."  
  
"Hrmm, I suppose not. Gimme the pad."  
  
"No. I'm not done. Besides, you were the one who claimed the Nav computer."  
  
"I just wanted to give you a break. Your head hit the floor pretty hard this   
morning."  
  
"You try being my height and cramming into that bunk."  
  
"Nate, I had to cram into that bunk *with* you. I'm aware that the fit was   
tight. Heh."  
  
"Wench. And yes, my head's fine."  
  
"You really need to stop hitting things with it, you know. One day you're   
likely to wake up in a coma."  
  
"... That made absolutely no sense."  
  
"To someone who, despite his name, can't work a cable box, yes. It does make   
no sense."  
  
"Those lemmings really did something to your brain, didn't they?"  
  
"Gimme the data pad."  
  
"No."  
  
"You realize you're being a jackass, right?"  
  
"You realize you're still acting like a four year old, right?"  
  
"You need new material."  
  
"Which is why it's a good thing I have the data pad, then isn't it?"  
  
"Grr. I hate you."  
  
"Now, that's not entirely true and you know it. Did you have any luck finding   
out where we are?"  
  
"Not really. The nav computer's locked on the nearest sol system, but Chris   
and company will probably pick us up before we get there. With these wimpy   
engines, we're about three weeks away."  
  
"Water and food will hold out that long?"  
  
"Yeah. The water cycler's working fine, and after the last time this thing   
crashed, Raza shoved two complete sets of replacement parts for both the   
cycler and the air system inside the flame/cold/act-of-god-resistant flight   
recorder casing. And we've got enough MRE's to last us six months, easy. If I   
didn't know better, I'd think this happened on a regular basis, or   
something."  
  
"Knowing my family, it does."  
  
"Point. But no, we're doing fine. We're basically in the middle of nowhere.   
From what I've been able to tell from the databases, this is one of the   
lowest-tech regions of this side of the galaxy. There isn't even a gate   
around."  
  
"Hmm. Handy, place to hide out."  
  
"Not really. Literally, there's *nothing* here. This area is like Delaware. A   
complete waste of time."  
  
"So we're stuck?"  
  
"Yep. Now, give me the data pad!"  
  
"Try it."  
  
*thunk*  
*whump*  
*crunch*  
*thunk*  
*beep*  
  
"Oww..."  
  
"Wuss. And hey! You lied! There is *too* a Nora Roberts novel on here!" 


	4. Chapter Three: In which happy endings ar...

Chapter Three: In which happy endings are discussed.  
  
***  
  
"You know something?"  
  
"Several things."  
  
"This-" *poke* "-is weird."  
  
"My shoulder?"  
  
"Mmmhmm. It's soft. You have a baby's ass on your shoulder."  
  
"That's... really unappealing. It makes sense. That skin hasn't really seen   
the light of day since I was an infant."  
  
"You know, I don't say it all that much, but the fact that you're technically   
five years old is rather insane."  
  
"Don't like being a cradle-robber, huh?"  
  
"Lout. Who's the cradle-robber?"  
  
"Is it my fault you look that good in spandex?"  
  
"You are a lecherous old, goat, aren't you?"  
  
"It's why you're here..."  
  
"Mmm, you do know how to use those hands. *squeak!* ASS!"  
  
"Hey, no hitting!"  
  
"Don't do that! You know I'm ticklish there!"  
  
"Ow! Stoppit! I'm sorry! It's just you're so cute when you make that noise."   
*GRUNT*  
  
"You're so cute when you make that noise!"  
  
"I really am a masochist."  
  
"Hmm? Why the belated admission."  
  
"I'm spending happily ever after with a woman who likes to beat me and feed   
me MRE's. I think that qualifies me."  
  
"...."  
  
"Dom? You okay? You got quiet pretty quick there. I know, you don't mean   
it..."  
  
"No. I don't. But that's not it."  
  
"What? Tell me."  
  
"It's the other thing you said. The 'happily ever after' bit. We are, aren't   
we?"  
  
"I'd like to think so. I mean, right now we aren't in the best of conditions,   
but you're here. So I'm happy. And I feel reasonably safe in saying that this   
is the 'after' bit."  
  
"Yeah. I guess."  
  
"You don't sound to sure."  
  
"No, I am. I'm with you, and we're okay. And blood-boiling death aside, outer   
space is the safest place we've been in a really long time. The only people   
who want us dead mean it in a very general sort of sense."  
  
"As opposed to our legions of enemies on Earth?"  
  
"Pretty much."  
  
"What is wrong?"  
  
"Shit. Nothing. We stumbled into a fucking happy ending, Nate. We aren't   
built for those."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because we aren't. We're the ones who die."  
  
"That's not very optimistic."  
  
"Fuck you. I'm not feeling optimistic. I'm feeling lost and confused."  
  
"But you're happy?"  
  
"I sure ain't sad. And that's what scares me. We're not meant for this."  
  
"We're not meant for anything. We follow a path but we make our own choices."  
  
"Maybe. But seems to me, that certain people's paths lead to happiness and   
others lead to blood and shit. Guess which one I've seen more of?"  
  
"Then why shouldn't you get the other?"  
  
"Because it's too different. I can deal with the other one. It's not easy, or   
fun, but it's familiar. Old dog, new tricks."  
  
"Even if you're not old anymore?"  
  
"I'm old, Nate. I may not look it, but I feel it. Behind the eyes and   
deeper."  
  
"Where it matters."  
  
"Yeah. Where it matters."  
  
"Why has this got you so bothered?"  
  
"We're supposed to be fucking dead. I don't know what to *do* because we   
aren't... and I don't want to."  
  
"Die?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"But what's the big deal about now? You wanted to die before?"  
  
"Shit, no. It's just... Before, there wasn't really a question. You were   
gonna do this big heroic swan dive while avenging your future and wife and   
son. It was this huge thing that was hanging over you and me and anything   
that we might have had."  
  
"Dom..."  
  
"No, let me finish. I *know* it was something you had to do. That's my   
fucking point. And then there was me in all my messed up glory doing   
absolutely everything I could to just survive. I haven't told you much of   
what went on during the times I wasn't with you. You know that right?"  
  
"Yeah. I didn't push, because I didn't think you wanted me to."  
  
"No. I wouldn't have said a word even if you had. Mostly because I didn't   
want to believe I'd done some of the stuff I did."  
  
"Was it bad?"  
  
"We all have our demons, right? The point is, I was doing all this stupid   
shit because there wasn't a thing in my life that I remembered or cared about   
except what we'd made. And I just knew that you were going to have to leave   
and do your big important thing and leave me and the kids."  
  
"Dom, I-"  
  
"No, it's okay. Damn, this is getting maudlin. It wasn't all you, Nate. I had   
absolutely nothing in my life. Just that. But I *knew* it. So it really   
didn't matter."  
  
"Yes it did."  
  
"No... it didn't. Shit, I was thirty-eight years old. It was fucking amazing   
I'd made it that long. Don't go making this all about you, lunk head. I'm   
responsible for my own issues. I'm just saying that having this life handed   
to me is just really fucking weird. And that I have no idea what we're   
supposed to do with it."  
  
"I'd say we're doing okay."  
  
"Yeah... But are we gonna do this for the next five years? Ten? What are we   
gonna do when looting Shi'Ar military transports and blowing shit up gets   
boring?"  
  
"Blowing stuff up never gets boring, and you know that."  
  
"Fine. What about the rest though? We suddenly have ALL this time..."  
  
"Dom, we always had time."  
  
"No we didn't."  
  
"Yes, we did."  
  
"Explain it to me, asshole. We *didn't*. You had to go give Apocalypse an   
atomic wedgie, and you can't tell me you expected to walk away."  
  
"No, I didn't. But we had time."  
  
"*How*?"  
  
"Wench, I'm a chrono-variant mutant. I could have found a way."  
  
"To what? Raise 2.5 kids with a dog, a cat and a minivan?"  
  
"Maybe. Whatever you wanted."  
  
"But that's what I've been trying to tell you! We have it now, and I don't   
know what to do!"  
  
"No one every does."  
  
"But we're different!"  
  
"How?"  
  
"Because we killed people for money! We have enemies who could destroy a   
fucking star-system! And when it comes down to the very bones of it all, I   
have no idea who I even am."  
  
"What do you mean you don't know who you are?"  
  
"I mean, I don't know who I *am*. What happened to me before I woke up in the   
pits? Do I have parents? Was I popped out of a clone tube? Because stranger   
things have happened. Shit, Nate, for all I know, I could be your   
*grandmother*."  
  
"I'd like to think Chris would have commented on any shocking similarities."  
  
"...stop trying to make me feel better."  
  
"Look, I have no idea how to even begin to respond to this, Dom, but-"  
  
"Nate-"  
  
"No. It's my turn now. But I know who you are. I know you're a beautiful,   
strong woman who's terrified because things are going right for once. I also   
know you're a person who's scraped herself and her life off the pavement more   
times than should be allowed. But most of all, I know that even after ALL of   
the shit I've pulled, you came back. So I know you're the woman I love."  
  
*sniff* "Asshole."  
  
"You just can't take a compliment, can you?"  
  
"No. But I can fuck you stupid instead."  
  
*grin* "Too late." 


	5. Chapter Four: In which there are crafts?

Chapter 4: In which there are ... crafts?  
  
***  
  
"I can't believe we never thought to look through here!"  
  
"Dom, we've been in this pod for all of three days. It's not like it's been   
months, or anything."  
  
"Shut up. Still, I can't believe how much stuff is in here! Ooo! Malkavian   
blitschloger!"  
  
"Isn't that the stuff that made Ch'od go blind for three days?"  
  
"Yep!"  
  
"Hrm. Hand it over."  
  
"Here. I swear, this is Hepzibah's personal storage locker for stuff she   
doesn't want anyone to find. There's the blitschloger, five wrapped presents,   
two talking pikachu's - didn't Bobby give them those? - two boxes of of   
gauze, three sets of water colors, a set of safety scissors, three boxes of   
wooden popcicle sticks, and five carmel-macadamia nut meltaways."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"I'm only sharing if you're extra good to me tonight."  
  
"Wench."  
  
"More like slut, but that works too. I wonder what else is back here..."  
  
"Well, don't get lost."  
  
"Hrmm. This is odd. There's a big flat envelope shoved up against the   
wall..."  
  
"Hey, can you look around and see if there are any more data chips? Five   
hundred books might get a bit old after- Dom! What's wrong?"  
  
"..."  
  
"Dom? You okay?"  
  
"..."  
  
"Are you okay!?"  
  
"I... I never want to see that again."  
  
"What did you- oh. Um. Ew."  
  
"That does not even cover it."  
  
"Why does Hepzibah have nude photos of Professor Xavier in here?"  
  
"Does it MATTER!?"  
  
"Blackmail?"  
  
"God, I hope so."  
  
"Shove them in the back."  
  
"Done. Hey, I wonder..."  
  
"You're still going to look through there? What if you find something worse?"  
  
"Tell me exactly what *could* be worse?"  
  
"Seeing Sinister naked?"  
  
"Shut up. No, I'm checking to see if there's anything..."  
  
"Whatever. I'm going back to my data pad."  
  
"..."  
  
"..."  
  
"Oh, my god!"  
  
"Dom? You okay?"  
  
"OH, MY GOD!"  
  
"What? Find China?"  
  
"Almost as good. Construction paper!"  
  
"Eh?"  
  
"Pulpy, colored paper with which to make chains."  
  
"And this is good... how?"  
  
"Because now I don't have to have fun with scissors and your hair."  
  
"Um... yay?"  
  
"Damn skippy. Now..." *digdigdig*  
  
"What are you looking for now?"  
  
"*muffle*There has to be... hmm.. no, glue stick, tape...*muffle*"  
  
"Domino, you've managed to jam half of your body in that storage bin."  
  
"And I'm sure you just hate the view..."  
  
"You'd kill me if I snickered right now, right?"  
  
"Yep... oh! YAY!"  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"Jackpot! There's gold, and red, and blue, and silver! Damn, Hepzibah must   
have been saving this for the kids birthdays or something."  
  
"What in the name of all that's holy did you find?"  
  
"Glitter!"  
  
"Oh, flonq."  
  
***  
  
"How does this look?"  
  
"Fine."  
  
"You're lying."  
  
"You don't know that."  
  
"Your eye is twitching. It always twitches when you lie."  
  
"It does not."  
  
"No, but you sound like your father."  
  
"...what?"  
  
"You sound like you have a steel rod permanently implanted in your ass.   
Hence, you're lying."  
  
"That makes no sense at all."  
  
"Just be honest. How does this look?"  
  
"Like a four-year-old got locked in an escape pod with a stack of conception   
paper and six industrial sized vials of glitter."  
  
"Say that word again, and you're spending the rest of this trip in a   
spacesuit magnatized to the hull. And thank you for the compliment."  
  
"What word?"  
  
"It's *construction* paper."  
  
"Oh. Huh."  
  
"Ass. What's yours look like?"  
  
"Nothing. I'm reading the data pad."  
  
"Hey! You said you'd make something!"  
  
"And I sounded like Scott when I said that."  
  
"..."  
  
"What? I didn't want to."  
  
"You're so sleeping on the floor."  
  
"So? I slept on the floor *last* night. It reduces my chances of head   
trauma."  
  
"Yes, but this time, I'm not using you for a mattress."  
  
"..." *EXTRASTRENGTH big-eye-trick*  
  
"Aaah! Don't *do* that! You're eyes are gonna fall out or something!"  
  
*Eyes get a little bigger*  
  
"Fine! Fine! But you have to make a snow flake."  
  
"...how's that possible? It's not cold enough in here."  
  
"No, moron, with construction paper."  
  
*confused look*  
  
"This is a job for the safety scissors."  
  
***  
  
"This sucks."  
  
"No, it doesn't. You're just opposed to doing anything you can picture your   
father doing."  
  
"No, this just sucks. And I can *not* imagine Scott being forced to cut paper   
snowflakes to tape to windows."  
  
"Then someone was obviously playing in the danger room most of last   
Christmas. You remember the blizzard on the main picture window?"  
  
"Scott did that?"  
  
"From what I hear, Martha Stewart is his personal hero."  
  
"..."  
  
"Your family's fucked up. Accept."  
  
"This sucks! My fingers don't even fit in the holes in these scissors!"  
  
"You're a telekenetic. Try harder."  
  
"You're being very pushy about this, you know."  
  
*elbow in the ribs* "I need the mental picture of you doing crafts. It's just   
a needed vital memory I've suddenly discovered."  
  
"...That made no sense."  
  
"Cut."  
  
"Yes, Domino."  
  
"You're doing that wrong."  
  
"No shit. My fingers don't fit into the scissors and I have no idea what I'm   
doing. That's a real formula for success."  
  
"Geez, you're getting cranky."  
  
"I don't want to do this."  
  
"*sigh* Look, it's not that hard. *crawls in lap* Lemme show you."  
  
"Well, this project just got a lot more interesting..."  
  
"Lech. Now look. Pinky finger in here, the tip of your index finger here..."  
  
"Ummhmm."  
  
"Now, hold that like this. No, fold there. Yes. That's it."  
  
"Like this?"  
  
"Umhmm."  
  
"And this goes here?"  
  
"Yes. Exactly. Not so hard. You don't want to tear anything."  
  
"Right. Now, what if I do... *this*."  
  
"That has nothing to do with your snowflake."  
  
"Nope."  
  
"That better not be the glue stick."  
  
***  
  
"Aw, dammit. I have glitter in places I don't even want to think about."  
  
"Hey, you're the one who started talking dirty over snowflakes. Plus, your   
ass has always been shiny. Why are you complaining now?"  
  
"Because that was melded to my cells! This is just melded to uncomfortable   
places. Yuck, this is worse than sand."  
  
"We are never having sex on a beach ever again."  
  
"Amen to that."  
  
"Then again, I don't think any authorities would ever let us do that again   
either."  
  
"Yeah. Those cops were pretty surprised."  
  
"More jealous, I think."  
  
"And the old ladies."  
  
"Oh, lord. I forgot about them. How long were they standing there anyway?"  
  
"Well, you were pretty distracting. I only noticed them after we'd gotten hit   
with the water. And let me tell you, I never realized how dirty old women   
could be."  
  
"Hee! Well, you are a dirty old man. It only follows the natural balance of   
things for there to be dirty old women."  
  
"But they were thinking *tips*, Dom."  
  
"Did you take any of their advice?"  
  
"Ten minutes ago."  
  
"Remind me to send them a thank you card. What were their names again?"  
  
"Andrea. Smith and Wester. On holiday from the midwest. One was from   
Wisconsin, and the other lived in Chicago."  
  
"They were both named Andrea?"  
  
"Why are we still talking about this?"  
  
"I'm distracting you from the glitter up your a-"  
  
"I remember. Can I get up now? My back's starting to cramp..."  
  
"Wuss." 


	6. Chapter Five: In which boredom makes a r...

Chapter five: In which Domino is Bored.  
  
***  
  
"I'm bored again."  
  
"Tired of tormenting me with colored paper?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Well, what do you want to do?"  
  
"Three rounds in the danger room."  
  
"Can't help you there."  
  
"Can we have sex again?"  
  
"Not for another half hour."  
  
"Damn. Sucks to be old. Wait, would that help?"  
  
"Not for another twenty minutes."  
  
"Aww, poor baby. I need to *do* something."  
  
"Made it through the data pad already?"  
  
"Shut up. I do *not* just read romance novels."  
  
"Riiiight."  
  
"... I mock the spy novels too. What? Not everyone enjoys obtuse esoteric   
treatises!"  
  
"J.R. R. Tolkein is not esoteric."  
  
"You're a fantasy dork!"  
  
"... I am not even going to dignify that with a response."  
  
"I bet you even read all those dragon and dungeon books."  
  
"It's called Dungeons & Dragons, and they're very imaginiative!"  
  
"Oh, my god! You're blushing!"  
  
"Why are you making such a deal out of this?"  
  
"I'm not! But, oh, my god! If you were actually twelve, you'd be one of those   
pimple-faced, never leaves the computer-room, anime-loving fan boys!"  
  
"Hey! Japanese animation is very advanced and enjoyable."  
  
"Sad thing is, you probably like for more than the porn."  
  
"It's not just for otaku's, you know."  
  
"... This entire revelation is just too freakish for words. When do you even   
have time to watch any of that stuff? Or read, for that matter?"  
  
"I wasn't fighting people *all* the time."  
  
"True... I just can't picture you settling in for an anime marathon. The   
image just doesn't compile."  
  
"Oath, I'm never going to hear the end of this, am I?"  
  
"You are such a nerd!"  
  
"I guess that means, no."  
  
"And with all the shit you give me about reading romance novels!"  
  
"That's it."  
  
"Nate? Nate, what are you doing? Nate-!" *shreik*  
  
"This is the only way I'm gonna ever get you to shut up, isn't it?"  
  
"You - *moan* - bastard... Been twenty minutes already?"  
  
***  
  
"Wow."  
  
"Tired now."  
  
"Damn, Nate, how did you *do* that?"  
  
"Tired now."  
  
"I *never* thought you could fit into that position!"  
  
"Tired now."  
  
"*giggle* Tired?"  
  
"Sleep?"  
  
"I broke you, didn't I?"  
  
"Water?"  
  
"That I can do. Scoot that way."  
  
*whimper*  
  
"Okay, future note. Don't let you bend that way because afterwards, you sound   
like a little girl."  
  
"Mean."  
  
"You say to the woman who's brushing off a good-sex induced haze to get you a   
water bottle. Grattitude, Nathan, grattitude."  
  
"Good to know you're feeling more relaxed."  
  
"Yeah, well, you're better than three rounds in the danger room."  
  
"Thank you?"  
  
"Damn straight. Man. I miss food."  
  
"Toss me one? And, those aren't *so* bad."  
  
"Says the boy who grew up eating algae."  
  
"It's nutritious!"  
  
"It's tasteless. And, as much as I hate to say it, that's twelve steps up   
from this crap."  
  
"*munch* They aren't *that* bad."  
  
"There's a reason their nick names are 'Meals rejected by Ethiopians'.   
Remember?"  
  
"Faintly. Oh, wait! This is what Storm got pelted with when they made that   
food drop in Africa?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Yeah! She was doing that big PR stunt right before everyone got killed the   
first time. They dropped food and supplies in Ethiopia. Rogue was telling   
me about how after they opened the first few boxes and were handing them out,   
Storm got pelted because it was rancid or something."  
  
"She did NOT!"  
  
"Mmmhmmm."  
  
*hysterical laughter*  
  
"It makes more sense now. And yeah, these are kind of bad. And monotonous."  
  
"Oh... god! *giggle* I still dislike the woman, but... now I can laugh at   
her to her face with a real reason backing me up!"  
  
  
  
***  
  
"You know something?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Ass. No, I'm curious about something. Promise not to get mad?"  
  
"Well, I can't promise that, but I'll try not to. It's the best I can do."  
  
"Okay. Geez, this is really stupid, you know?"  
  
"No. But I'm sure it's not stupid. You don't exactly ask questions you don't   
want answers to."  
  
"No, I don't, do I? Shit. This was dumb."  
  
"Dom, what?"  
  
"Okay, I want to stick in a disclaimer here. I won't get mad at you. Well,   
like you said, I'll try not to. It's just... Why are you still with me?"  
  
"That's... sudden."  
  
"Shit, I've gone and done it, haven't I?"  
  
"Dom, no, it's a valid question. I just-"  
  
"Have no idea why? Shit, never mind."  
  
"Domino. Shut up."  
  
"..."  
  
"I'm with you because I want to be. And knowing my background, that says a   
hell of a lot."  
  
"...yeah. I'm sorry."  
  
"Why? For asking a question?"  
  
"No. For getting all defensive about the response."  
  
"Neither of us have very much practice questioning each other, do we?"  
  
"Not really. It's your turn now, you know."  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"Well, I went and opened this can of worms. If we're going to have a fight,   
we might as well get it all out in the open and clear everything up. We're   
gonna be stuck in this boat for six weeks at the outside. It might be better   
to have the fight now instead of later. It's your turn."  
  
"Who says we're going to have a fight?"  
  
"Nate."  
  
"I know. The past is difficult for us, isn't it?"  
  
"We have good reasons for not talking about a lot of stuff."  
  
"I don't want to hurt you, Dom. I never did."  
  
"I know. Same here. But we can't help it, can we? I love you. And I know you   
love me. Love is pain, even if we don't mean it to be."  
  
"That's rather fatalistic."  
  
"Empirical research."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"So. It's your turn."  
  
"It's my turn."  
  
"..."  
  
"Why are you with me? Don't give me that look. I mean it. And I want your   
honest answer."  
  
"My honest answer?"  
  
"It's only fair."  
  
"Yeah. I- I think I'm with you because I wasn't for a long time. We weren't   
together for almost two years, Nate. And that was enough time to let go of   
some of my shit. It was enough time to stop thinking about you as a lover,   
and to start missing you as a friend. We lost that right before the end   
there, Nate."  
  
"Yeah, we did."  
  
"And I think I needed that more than the sex."  
  
"But we're lovers now."  
  
"Obviously. But that's because I finally figured out that the two aren't   
mutually exclusive. You can be Nate, the asshole I drink under the table, but   
you can also be Nate, the sweet guy who gives me foot rubs and fucks me until   
I pass out."  
  
"Is that all?"  
  
"No, it's not. I can do this, be *here*, because you're done."  
  
"I thought that might be it."  
  
"I couldn't be what you wanted me to be before, Nate. You were marching off   
to *die*. And I knew it. What's more, you wanted that ending. Or, you seemed   
to want it."  
  
"I did."  
  
"Yeah. I couldn't watch that."  
  
"I know. I'm glad you didn't let me."  
  
"But you somehow made it, didn't you?"  
  
"Yes, I did. Spent two years wandering around in an insane haze, but I made   
it."  
  
"Remind me to find the bug's grave when we get home and dance on it."  
  
"Want company?"  
  
"My, we're feeling bitter."  
  
"Yeah, well. He deserved to die like that."  
  
"God, I'm sorry, Nate..."  
  
"It's not your fault. It's mine. And his. And Rachel's. Although, not really   
HERS."  
  
"Your family is fucked up."  
  
"Amen to that."  
  
"You used the phrase right!"  
  
"It's a red letter day all around. It's just. Oath. I can't believe how wrong   
everything went."  
  
"You're remembering more then?"  
  
"I almost wish I weren't. Dom... There's something-"  
  
"He messed with my head, didn't he?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Do I want to know?"  
  
"Yes. And no."  
  
"Does it have to do with something you did?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Will it change things?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Then I don't want to know."  
  
"Yes, you do."  
  
"Yeah, I do."  
  
"He was the one that made you forget Tyler was Tolliver."  
  
"..."  
  
"He didn't tell me until later. Until he'd already done it. And when he   
did... Flonq. It was like he didn't see what was wrong there. I didn't know   
what to say. Or what to do. What could I have done? Taken you aside and said,   
"Oh, by the way..." God, you'd been on that wall a *year*."  
  
"I know."  
  
"I know you know. Dammit, a *year*. I should have flonqing well *known*. And   
you should have called me on it. More than once. But you didn't. Why didn't   
you?"  
  
"Because it was over."  
  
"Yes. It was over. But was it? Is it? Can you honestly look at me and not   
hate me for that? And then for turning around and asking you to step into the   
spot she'd vacated?"  
  
"Yes. I can honestly look at you and not hate you for that. You know that.   
And we're not done talking about the bug yet. But this needs to be dealt with   
now. Look at me, Nathan. Look at me nice and hard. I wouldn't be here if I   
hated you for that. And, yes, I did hate you for coming to me like that after   
Vanessa. I hated you a lot. But as stupid as it sounds, I don't anymore. I   
haven't for a long, long time."  
  
"But *why*?"  
  
"Because Vanessa told me something once. Right after our little adventure in   
the Microverse. Right before she and Gar ran off to look for some new place   
to play happy-homemaker, she looked me in the eye and told me that she didn't   
just shapeshift. She became other people. Right on down to the scars. She   
couldn't have made you love her without you loving me. It was that simple."  
  
"Simple?"  
  
"Yep. It's insane, but we have too much baggage between, around and in us for   
me to have made a big deal out of that. You loved her-me. Maybe she was   
better at being that me, but it was still a me. And that made no fucking   
sense. Look, she *was* me. Yes, she was more stable, but that's hardly her   
fault. You loved her as me. The me I could have been if I'd stopped being a   
moron and taken the fucking happy drugs. But then you turned around and loved   
me anyway. Because I was the one you wanted."  
  
"You still are."  
  
"Asshole. You're making me cry."  
  
"No, you made yourself cry. But if it makes you feel any better, I'm about   
there myself."  
  
"You do realize that if any of the kids found us right now, they'd cash in   
the pool and go dancing."  
  
"No, they wouldn't."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"They cashed in the pool as soon as our shuttle left orbit. Sam told me the   
last time he called."  
  
"He did?"  
  
"Well, he looked more stupidly happy than normal. It was bugging me, so I   
asked him why. Apparently he and that coed he's been dating met up after he   
dropped Terry off. When I asked him where he got the money, he stammered a   
lot, turned red, mentioned something about a ceramic pig and hung up."  
  
"So, Sam won the pool then?"  
  
"Apparently so."  
  
"Good for him. And 'that coed', as you call him, has a name."  
  
"And I've forgotten it."  
  
"It's Jeffery. And for a man of the future, you really are a stick-in-the-  
mud."  
  
"It's a phase."  
  
"Tell that to Jeffery."  
  
"It'd better be a phase. His mother is going to kill me."  
  
"Then it's a good thing you're trillions of miles away, locked in an escape   
pod with a naked women, then, isn't it?"  
  
"She'll still find me."  
  
"Probably. But I wouldn't worry about it over-much. She really didn't like   
Tabitha."  
  
"Strangely, you have a point."  
  
"Of course I do. I know everything."  
  
"And I'm not stupid enough to disagree with you on that."  
  
"Good boy. You get a cookie."  
  
"You're hording cookies?"  
  
"Nope. Just this."  
  
"Ahhh. Well, in that case-"   
  
"Hmm? Ohhh... Shit, you're good at that- Oh, god...!"  
  
*** 


End file.
